Ocean Journeys: Beginnings. Brandon Southall. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Brandon Southall
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Биографии и Мемуары
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781607464860
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refuge, a cloud forest at 4,500 feet. It rained nearly the entire three days, not surprising considering the area received some 250 inches a year, and it was thus impossible to build a fire. It was also surprisingly chilly at our campsite in a primeval, moss-coated gulch covered by ferns and huge fallen trees. The native montane forest was shrouded, silent but for the steady gurgling stream and dripping rain. Upslope breezes moved tangled plants, including the occasional koa and native raspberry. There were no people, no trails, nothing but a glimpse of what the islands once were.

      I marveled at the abundance and diversity of the birds, plants, and insects. My friends told me the Hawaiian names of some but my scribbling in the utter humidity was illegible. Odd black beetles with massive lower jaws stood stoutly along tiny streams flushing down a moss-covered log, dunking their mandibles into the passing water and filter-feeding on tiny prey. They strained the flow just like groping feather duster worms or the massive baleen plates of a large whale. Sometimes, whatever the environment, nature finds similar solutions to similar problems in different organisms. This remarkable process of “convergent evolution” explains why some distantly related species have common features. It is, for instance, why some sharks (fish) and dolphins (mammals) are both streamlined. The existence of such an eventuality is as beautiful as any Kona sunset or misty dawn in a cloud forest. But it is a treasure that may only be embraced by exploding any human relation to time, just as one must to fully grasp the majestic creation and destruction of the islands themselves. Convergence and inter-connection in biology, geology, society, and religion became powerful concepts made increasingly clear to me through the benefit of journeys to many edges of the one ocean, beginning in Hawai’i.

      The wildlife refuge and remote areas around it were one of the last stands for many native birds, as well as the endangered hoary bat, one of the only indigenous Hawaiian mammals. Introduced species, habitat loss, and hunters had backed native life into a very few undeveloped corners. Much native abundance and diversity had been lost, but shreds remained, as well as the stunning array of habitats that made the Big Island one of the most distinct places in the world. We were fortunate to witness a pair of rare Hawaiian honeycreepers feeding in the cool dawn, their fluid, tandem fluttering echoing in the canopy like the movements of Mozart or the words of Thoreau. Their curved bills slid perfectly into long-stemmed flowers, like butterflyfish probing neatly into reef crevices. The honeycreepers licked out the nectar with specialized tongues as beams of rising sunlight sliced through the dripping, primeval foliage.

      My time in Hawai’i was a blur of beaches and canopies, hikes on arid lava rock, fighting Tonka over the Saddle Road, and eye-opening encounters with history, biology, and a very different society. Myriad travels around that fresh place sharply shaped me and began to reveal the intricate relationships between land, sea, and sky, between action and consequence, and between life, love, and faith. They were also the most carefree, uncomplicated times Elizabeth and I ever had. I had never been so happy.

      We both took a full load of classes and worked part time, but managed to get to nearly every corner of that fantastic island. With little money to stay in fancy places or eat at nice restaurants, we camped a lot, grilling fresh seafood on sunset beaches and dark forests around the island. Often it was just the two of us, traveling simply, seeing new places, tasting new foods, immersed in mutual love of the sea. For a time, we were perfectly happy, thousands of miles from reality, living the dream together. I thought and hoped it would never end.

      So much of what I was learning about marine life was being amplified in vivo beneath the wavering mirror. The diverse ecosystems above and below Big Island water were about the most radical comparative perspective a budding student could have encountered, especially when sampled in such rapid succession. One reptilian experience along the black sand south of Hilo sealed my conversion to marine biology, but these many journeys incrementally nudged me in that direction. Just as life lessons in Tulsa turned me to biology and to Missoula, so did journeys in Hawai’i crystallize my scientific focus, draw me away from freshwater ecology and Montana, and change the course of my whole life.

      ~~~

      North of ‘Akaka Falls, picturesque views of Mauna Kea interspersed with tangled, saturated jungle surrounding the winding Belt Road like a tunnel. Bamboo, wild ginger, and orchids graced the verdant cliffs. Ten-foot sugar cane stalks intermittently lined the road leading into the comfortable tin-roof town of Honoka’a. Here there was a choice – turn west toward Waimea and the north Kohala coast, or continue tracking the Lower Hāmākua Ditch to Kapulena and steep Waipi’o Valley.

      The Waipi’o overlook above lush, waterfall-lined cliffs was stunning – a panoramic view of wide blue water, black sand beach, and citrus, breadfruit, and avocado lining the fertile, mile-wide “Valley of the Kings.” Formed from a catastrophic fault collapse and perpetually rushing streams, the amphitheatre valley mouth hails ever wider to the open Pacific. This is where Kahmehameha, most powerful of all Hawaiian kings, was secretly hidden as an infant. The King of the Big Island had ordered the child executed because his mother was believed to have slept with the King of Maui and she also had an odd craving to eat the Big Island King’s eyes. But Kahmehameha grew strong in this spiritual heartland of ancient Hawai’i and ultimately used it as a base to take over all the Islands in 1795, forcibly uniting them under the century-long Hawaiian monarchy that ruled until U.S. Marines took over.

      Above Waipi’o Valley, the Belt Road climbed between Mauna Kea and the Kohala Mountains that form the northern sector of the island. Waimea, one of the oldest towns in all the islands, felt about as removed from the ocean as possible. Evergreen trees lined a massive cattle ranch and cowboys bounced casually along on horses kicking up dust. The air was dry half a mile above the water and smelled of livestock and pine. Perhaps I was just homesick for Montana, but I couldn’t help but think of the fresh Rockies passing through Waimea.

      Passing over the spine of the island and dropping down the dry side, the overall feel of the land changed remarkably and abruptly. Scrub pines and cactus dotted jagged parched lava fields along the South Kohala coast leading to Kona. Elizabeth and I spent some time at enormous white sand Hāpuna Beach, before we got Tonka and found more out-of-the-way places to experience the sea together.

      Further around was an interesting little bay called ‘Anaeho’omelu at the end of Waikoloa Road that the locals called A-Bay. Coastal trails led to the tranquil enclosure from natural brackish pools filled with unique life, ancient freshwater fish ponds, and deep, cool lava caves. It was somewhat tainted by upscale resorts with their manicured sand and paddleboats, but remained a clear place to watch the sun set over the water with views of purple-streaked Haleakalā poking out of the clouds across ‘Alenuihāhā Channel on Mau’i. Haleakalā is the only active Hawaiian volcano not on the Big Island, but she is drifting from the hotspot into her twilight, last erupting with a possible final fling in 1790.

      Lava most recently flowed into the ocean along the North Kona coast in the 19th Century, yet, in stark contrast to the rapid erosion and ecosystem pace so evident just an hour away, the land remained largely unchanged. The jagged rocks still had sharp edges and rested where they were deposited a century before. The windward side of the towering Big Island took the brunt of the trades, squeezed moisture from them and leaving the leeward side amazingly dry. The Kona Coast was effectively a desert, but one with intermittent gardens and coffee plantations amidst expansive black lava fields surrounded by some of the most gorgeous and abundant marine life in the world.

      Coming around Keāhole Point, the westernmost edge of the Big Island ten miles north of Kailua-Kona, the seas calmed noticeably. This stretch of Kona Coast down to Kealakekua Bay was completely in the lee of the trades and the snorkeling and diving was incredible. I have yet to dive the South Pacific, Australia, Philippines, or Red Sea, all rated as among the most spectacular in the world. But from my experiences throughout Hawai’i, Florida, the Gulf of Mexico, and Caribbean, the Kona Coast was unrivalled for raw beauty, diversity, and abundance of tropical life. The water was gentle, aquarium clear, and perfectly warm, driving a different flavor, size, and abundance of coral reef and marine creatures.

      Many of the same underwater animals seen elsewhere in Hawai’i were common along the Kona coast, just in brighter abundance. The reefs were paved with grazing surgeonfish, crunching parrotfish, banded coral shrimp, pokey spiny urchins, and darting hawkfish,